“You don’t get to make commands. Not after what you’ve done.” He released the leader’s arm briefly, only to reach into his pocket and pull out a pair of zip ties. Swiftly, he secured the leader hands behind his back, ignoring the man’s curses. The wiry man tried to crawl away, but James tapped his shoulder with the cane.
“You’re not going anywhere either.” Marcus approached, pulling another zip tie from his pocket and restraining the wiry man with the same efficiency. Finally, he turned to the stop St man, who had stopped struggling entirely. As Marcus tied his hands, the stocky man muttered, “Who the hell are you anyway?”
Marcus straightened, his expression cold. “General Marcus Carter,” he said, his voice sharp and unwavering. “United States Army.” The leader’s face twisted in disbelief.
“General? You expect us to believe that?” James stepped forward, leaning on his cane as he looked down at the leader. “Believe it. You picked a fight with the wrong man.” Marcus stood stood tall, looking between the three subdued men.
“You’ve assaulted a veteran and endangered the lives of others in this park. You’re lucky you’re walking out of here in one piece.” The leader opened his mouth to retort but stopped, his gaze dropping to the ground. James, his voice calm but filled with quiet triumph, added, “This is what happens when your hate blinds you. You lose.”
Marcus nodded, pulling out his phone. “Now let’s call someone to come pick up this trash.” The low hum of distant sirens grew louder, cutting through the stillness of the park. Marcus stood over the restrained men, his arms crossed, his sharp eyes scanning their every move.
Beside him, James leaned against his cane, his breathing heavy but steady, watching as the situation began to settle. Moments later, a patrol car rolled up onto the paved path, its lights flashing. Two officers stepped out, their hands resting on their belts as they surveyed the scene. One of them, a tall man with a commanding presence, approached cautiously.
“What’s going on here?” the officer asked, his gaze darting between Marcus, James, and the three men zip tied on the ground. Marcus straightened, his voice calm but firm. “Assault. These three men attacked my father.” The officer’s eyes narrowed, moving from Marcus to James, who nodded in confirmation.
“They came at me first,” James said, his voice steady despite the bruises already forming on his face. “My son stepped in to stop them.” The second officer crouched near the restrained men, who were now glaring but saying nothing. “These guys? They attacked you?”
Marcus gestured toward the leader, who was still writhing against his restraints. “Him and his friends. They’ve been harassing people here, and today they decided to pick a fight with the wrong person.” The leader, his voice dripping with disdain, finally spoke up. “This is bull. They started it.”
“We were just defending ourselves.” The stocky man chimed in, his voice desperate. “Yeah, they hit us first. Look at what they did.” Marcus’s face darkened, and his tone turned icy.
“You want to play the victim now, after cornering an unarmed veteran and beating him to the ground? Don’t even try it.” The first officer raised a hand to calm the escalating tension. “All right, let’s get this straight. We need everyone’s statements.” He addressed Marcus.
“Sir, what’s your name?” “General Marcus Carter, United States Army,” Marcus replied, his voice sharp and authoritative. The officer blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “General. All right, then. And you say these three assaulted your father?”
“That’s right,” Marcus said. “Unprovoked. They targeted him, harassed him, and when he stood up to them, they attacked. I arrived during the fight and subdued them.” The second officer frowned, standing up from the wiry man he’d been inspecting.
“And you zip tied them yourself?” Marcus met his gaze without flinching. “Yes. They were a danger to my father and anyone else in this park. Restraining them was necessary to stop the assault.”
The wiry man spat on the ground. “Necessary? You’re not a cop. You think you can just—” “Quiet,” the first officer snapped, cutting him off. He turned back to Marcus and James.
“We’ll need to take your statements down at the station. Are either of you in need of medical attention?” James shook his head slightly. “I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse.” Marcus glanced at his father, concern flickering in his eyes.
“I’ll take him to the hospital once this is sorted out. But you’ll want to check these three for priors. Something tells me this isn’t the first time they’ve pulled something like this.” The officers exchanged a look before the first one nodded. “We’ll start by running their IDs.”
“For now now, we’ll take them into custody and get everyone’s statements.” As the officers began securing the gang members, the leader glared up at Marcus. “This isn’t over,” he snarled. “Youk regret this.” Marcus leaned down slightly, his voice low and unyielding.
“The only thing I regret is not stopping you sooner. You picked the wrong fight, and now you’ll face the consequences.” The leader fell silent, his bravado crumbling as the officers led him and his accomp IES toward the patrol car. As the officers began guiding the restrained men toward the patrol car, the atmosphere in the park seemed to settle.
The earlier tension gave way to a sense of resolution. Marcus remained vigilant, his gaze fixed on the gang members as James leaned heavily on his cane, his weariness starting to show. The officers moved quickly, checking IDs and preparing to load the men into the back seat. One officer tightened the zip ties on the stock man, who grimaced but stayed silent.
The wiry man, still grumbling under his breath, muttered something incoherent but didn’t resist. The leader, however, was different. His eyes darted around, calculating and restless. His bravado had returned in small flickers, and Marcus noticed the way his fingers fidgeted, his legs subtly testing the restraint.
James, watching from nearby, leaned toward Marcus. “He’s planning something,” he said quietly, his voice firm despite his fatigue. Marcus nodded slightly. “I see it. Let’s stay ready.”
The first officer, preoccupied with his clipboard, stepped away to radio dispatch about the situation. The second officer moved to open the patrol car’s door, distracted by the wiry man’s complaints about the zip ties being too tight. The leader seized his moment. With a sudden burst of energy, he twisted sharply, yanking his arms forward and SN snapping the zip tie in a way that startled everyone.
Before anyone could react, he shoved the stocky man into the second officer and bolted, his legs pumping furiously as he sprinted toward the tree line. “Hey! Stop!” the first officer shouted, fumbling with his radio as he turned to give chase. Marcus’s instincts kicked in immediately. He surged forward, his military training screaming for action, but James’s voice stopped him.
“Marcus, don’t!” James called, gripping his cane. “He’s not worth it.” Marcus hesitated for a fraction of a second, glancing back at his father. James’s face was pale, his earlier strength clearly waning, but his eyes were steady.
The second officer, untangling himself from the stocky man, drew his radio and shouted into it. “Suspect fleeing southbound through the park, requesting backup.” The leader figure disappeared into the dense greenery, his steps fading with the distance. The first officer Cur first under his breath, abandoning the chase as he turned back to the others.
“We’ll get him,” he said firmly, though frustration colored his tone. Marcus clenched his fists, the tension in his shoulders evident as he turned back toward James. “He’s not going far,” Marcus said, his voice low but determined. “If they don’t find him, I will.”